


The Courting of the Wedding Planner

by serenbach



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff, M/M, May/December Relationship, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 14:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10362390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenbach/pseuds/serenbach
Summary: To the surprise of nobody, Thorin proposes to Bilbo, and he accepts.The task falls to Ori, Erebor's chief (and only) librarian to research the forgotten royal wedding traditions of Erebor and collaborate with Balin to plan the perfect wedding.Planning a wedding would be easier if Ori didn't have his own embarrassingly obvious crush on Balin, but he's realistic enough to know that dwarf-lords don't court illegitimate librarians.(Except for when they do, of course).





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rads](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rads/gifts).



> Rads requested some Balin/Ori post-battle, everyone lives fluff as their pinch-hitter thank you fic. 
> 
> This isn't a pairing I've written before, and I really enjoyed it, but obviously the big age difference is not for everyone (although Ori is definitely an adult in this fic). If you think that you will find it upsetting or troubling in any way, it's probably best to click the back button now.

When most of their friends and neighbours in Ered Luin heard that Ori had signed up for the Quest to Erebor, they assumed that he was just tagging along after his brothers.

Ori didn’t mind that. It was partly true, for one thing, there was no way he was being left behind by them. He knew that he wasn’t as strong as Dori, or as cunning as Nori (although in his own defence he would say that he was clever enough to get by and a crack shot with his slingshot, besides), but he had his own reasons for signing up for the quest that didn’t revolve around them.

Ori was a scribe, he had studied his people’s history enough to know just how much was _missing_. They had lost so many kingdoms, been scattered from so many different homelands, and so much of their knowledge and studies and traditions had been lost to them forever because of that.

The thought of getting any of it back was as exciting a prospect to him as reclaiming a home where Dori wouldn’t have to work all hours of the day to put food on the table, and Nori wouldn’t always be dodging the law. King Thorin hadn’t turned him away, or laughed as he had half expected. He’d listened to Ori’s stammering reasons for wanting to come with a grave sort of intensity, and then had welcomed him to his Company without hesitation.

Ori felt a little lightheaded from their conversation for a long time afterwards, truth be told.

But it wasn’t until the Company set out from the Shire that Ori spoke Balin for the first time. The dwarf-lord actually pulled his pony alongside Ori’s to talk to him, much to his bewilderment.

“I wanted to speak to you, laddie,” he said quietly, and for a moment Ori was frightened that he was going to be told to go home, until he saw the small, approving smile on his face. “Thorin told me about what you said about wanting to reclaim our lost knowledge,” Balin said warmly. “It’s a worthy ambition, one I’ll gladly help you with once Erebor is ours again.”

Ori almost fell off his pony in shock at the offer, and then, looking at Balin’s kind, sincere face blurted, “I’ve read your book. I liked it a lot.”

“ _My_ book?” Balin repeated in surprise, but he looked pleased as well.

“I really liked your theories on how Khazad-dûm fell and if it could ever be won back from the orcs,” Ori continued, encouraged by Balin’s open expression.

Balin’s gaze went a little sad and distant, as if he were remembering something unpleasant, but his face was still kind when he looked at Ori. “Well, it may just be self-indulgent conjecture on my part, but it would be a fine thing, wouldn’t it?”

Ori nodded enthusiastically. “Maybe I’ll go with you, one day.”

From behind them, Dwalin snorted. “One lost kingdom at a time, brother.”

Balin gave Ori a twinkling, conspiratorial look before his attention was drawn away by the arrival of an out-of-breath hobbit, and Ori took the opportunity to silently scold himself.

This was not the time or place to develop a completely inappropriate crush on a dwarf who was out of his league in every conceivable way.

He’d remind himself of that often throughout the journey.

\---         

The first time Ori saw the great library of Erebor, he wept bitterly.

It had taken time for them to reach the library once the rebuilding began. The corridors leading to it were not structurally sound and even Ori knew that there were other priorities that were of more immediate concern to the resettlement, despite his eagerness. But when the rubble had been cleared and the pathways made safe and Ori saw what had become of the library he couldn’t help but cry.

The library had been completely destroyed.

Bilbo echoed his cry of dismay. Thorin, who was never far away from him these days, leaned more heavily on his crutch, looking grim. Balin stepped closer to him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.  

There was barely an intact book to be seen on the shelves, and while there were loose sheets of weathered paper drifting about, the thick layer of ash on the floor spoke as loudly as words of the fate of the majority of the books. The only reason the shelves had survived was because they were made of stone.

Ori should have known better, having seen what had become of the rest of the mountain and its inhabitants, but he’d had such _hopes_ for so long and seeing what had become of the library broke his heart.  

“Don’t despair yet, laddie,” Balin said, squeezing his shoulder once and then letting go, striding towards the other side of the room.

He touched a carving on the wall, indistinguishable from any other carving, and a secret door swung open. Balin smiled at him. “This is where we kept our census records and our most important works.” His eyes focused on Ori’s tear-stained face and his expression was very soft. “Not everything was lost.” Then he grinned impishly. It made Ori’s stomach twist in a funny way.  “Luckily I remembered how to open it.”

“And you are the perfect person to restore the library to its former glory,” Thorin told him with a small smile.

“Me?” Ori gasped. He’d hoped to be allowed to _work_ in the library, being put in charge of it was more than he had ever thought of.

“I can’t think of anyone better,” Bilbo exclaimed, patting Ori on the back at the same time as giving Thorin a besotted sort of smile.  

“It’ll be a difficult job,” Thorin warned. “As more of the old families return to Erebor, we are bound to start getting disputes about property, mining rights and patents, and probably other things as well. You’ll be required to work alongside Balin to research if any of these claims have basis in fact.”

Ori nodded eagerly, and not just because he’d have an excuse to spend time with Balin. This was more than he’d ever dreamed of when he’d first signed onto the quest, and he couldn’t be happier.

\---       

As predicted, it _was_ a difficult job.

Cleaning the ash out of the library took a whole month before he even touched the books. Then he started by cataloguing what books were left, and trying to preserve the loose sheets in some sort of order, and going through the records. All of which took months.

Months of long hours, and forgetting to eat unless Dori reminded him, and only sleeping when he couldn’t keep his eyes open any more.

He was constantly exhausted, and completely content.

It came as no surprise to any of Thorin’s Company when Thorin proposed to Bilbo, and even less surprise when Bilbo accepted. Ori was very happy for them, but in all honestly, hadn’t expected it to add to his workload.

“I hate to ask it of you, laddie,” Balin said, looking genuinely regretful. “But it has been a century and more since the last time there was a royal wedding, and there is no one left who remembers quite how the ceremony was performed.”

“There are a few diaries I could look through,” Ori said thoughtfully, climbing up one of the ladders to get to them. “But would it really matter if things weren’t exactly the same as last time? This is a new beginning for us, isn’t it?”

He glanced down to see Balin smiling at him, a warm, fond smile that made Ori beam foolishly back at him.

“You’re right of course,” Balin said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair. “I just want things to be perfect for Thorin.”

“They will be,” Ori promised earnestly. “I’ll look through the diaries for inspiration, and I’ll talk to Bilbo too, about hobbit weddings. There’s probably things he wants including, too.”

“What would I do without you?” Balin asked softly, and Ori had to bite his lip to stop himself from babbling a confession that he could never take back.

His crush still hadn’t gone away. It had deepened to the point he couldn’t call it a crush anymore and still be honest with himself. But he knew that it didn't matter. Balin was intelligent, noble and distinguished, a dwarf-lord of high renown. He was an illegitimate librarian. There were some dreams that were too far-fetched, even for someone who somehow already had so many of their dreams come true.  

\---

So Ori began his new career as a wedding planner. It wasn’t anything that he thought he would have a talent for, but he found himself quite enjoying it. He researched a list of essential dwarven and hobbit traditions to include, worked with Dori to design their outfits, planned a menu with Bombur, let Fili and Kili compose some music for the occasion, and consulted with Balin every step of the way.

All on top of his regular duties. He was exhausted, but everyone was working hard, and he wouldn’t complain.

It was probably no surprise that he fell asleep at his desk on top of all his paperwork one night. He woke to Balin gently shaking his shoulder, something tender and concerned in his eyes.

“We’re working you too hard, my dear,” Balin murmured quietly, and Ori yawned, tempted just to put his head back down on the desk and go back to sleep. “Come on now, let’s get you home.”

“I just want to finish this,” Ori mumbled, groping for his pen with his eyes still closed, and Balin plucked it out of his grasp and chivvied him to his feet.

“You can finish it tomorrow,” Balin assured him. “Or better yet, the day after.”

Balin guided him home with a hand on his elbow and handed him over to a worried Dori’s care.

He didn’t register until the next morning, waking with a luxurious stretch much later than he was used to, that Balin had called him “dear.”

\---

Ori tried to put it out of his mind, as much as he could. Balin had always been kind to him. It meant nothing more than that and he was too busy, and too practical, to preoccupy himself with unrealistic hopes. At least, not more than a few times each day, anyway.

Things probably wouldn’t have changed if he hadn’t overheard Balin having an argument with Dwalin, in _his_ library, of all places.

“I’m so tired of you pining like this. I don’t know why you haven’t courted him already, when he is clearly so fond of you,” Dwalin grumbled and Balin sighed, sounding like this was a conversation they’d already had before.

Ori ducked back around the corner to the secret room, his heart clenching. Of course Balin had his eye on someone. Good thing he hadn’t got his hopes up, he thought, as tears prickled his eyes.  

“You already know why,” Balin replied, sounding agitated beneath his calm tone.

“You have a huge advantage as well,” Dwalin said, disbelievingly. “All that wedding planning he’s doing, you know exactly what he thinks is romantic.”

At that, Ori’s eyes widened and he edged closer to the door, unable to tear himself away, despite all Dori’s lectures on manners. It had never occurred to him that Balin might feel the same for him.

“I have nothing to offer him,” Balin said tightly.

“What do you mean?” Dwalin said impatiently, as disbelieving as Ori felt. “You are a dwarf-lord of Durin’s line, a warrior beyond reproach, one of the wealthiest dwarves in the mountain, behind only Thorin and Fili in command - ”

“And Ori is a brilliant young dwarf with his whole life ahead of him, who doesn’t need to be saddled with the attentions of an old dwarf well beyond his prime - ” Balin said exasperatedly, and Ori couldn’t listen to any more of that, and poked his head around the door.

“Um,” he announced himself, and Balin looked aghast, Dwalin amused.

“This _is_ my office,” he pointed out, feeling a bit self-conscious, and Dwalin laughed out loud.

“So it is,” he said, clapping Ori on the shoulder in an approving way that made his knees buckle. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He left the library, and Balin sat down with a sigh in Ori’s usual chair. “Forgive me, Ori,” he said quietly, looking sad. “I never meant to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Ori replied, puzzled. “And there is nothing to forgive.”

Balin smiled, but it was a small, tense one, compared to his usual beaming smiles. “You’re too kind. I won’t bring it up again.”

“Oh,” Ori said, disappointed, and Balin looked up, surprised at his tone. They stared at each other over the table for a long time, until Ori summoned up all of his courage, and stepped forward.

“So… if you are not going to court me, can I court you?” he asked, and was rewarded by the slow smile spreading across Balin’s face.

“I would be honoured,” he said, the devotion on his face making Ori blush. “If you are sure, of course.”

“Believe me,” Ori said, reaching to clasp his hand, relieved that his wasn’t the only one that was trembling. “I’m very sure.”

\---

Dwalin wasn’t wrong; all of the wedding planning he’d been doing meant that he had some very definite ideas of how he wanted his courtship to go.

**Author's Note:**

> How many dwarves can I ship Ori with?
> 
> Thanks again, Rads, much appreciated!


End file.
